Will You Tolerate Him?
by SabreDae
Summary: Basically Marion's POV of the moments she has with Robin in S1E1, 'Will You Tolerate This' Could be continued for the rest of the episodes. Rated T to be safe.


**A/N: This is my first Robin Hood fic so I'd really appreciate some feedback on how you think I did with the characters and the scenes. I hope you enjoy it. **

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><p><strong>Will You Tolerate Him?<strong>

I looked up from my embroidery in surprise as the sound hoof beats grew louder. We did not receive visitors anymore, my father and I, not unless the visitor was Sir Guy of Gisborne. Whilst my father went to the door, I stood up; leaving my embroidery on the table in front of the chair I had been sat in.

My father ran out and shouted at whoever was out there, "Get out! Get away from here!"

"Edward! It is me, your friend, Robin of Locksley," one of them replied. The voice was familiar, so I knew it _was _Robin, but we were being watched, so even if it was Robin, the man I was betrothed to, he could not stay. I retrieved the bow that we left by the door and notched an arrow in it, prepared and waiting.

"I know who you are. Crooks, come to deceive me! I'll have none of you here," my father exclaimed, still trying to get rid of them.

"I swear. I come in friendship!" Robin insisted.

"Get away! I am no longer the sheriff. Leave me to live out my days in peace."

I knew that the only way they would go would be if they were threatened, so I stepped out from where I had been hiding beside the open door and became visible, to bow and arrow before me in warning. "You heard my father. Leave!" My eyes were drawn to Robin and I noticed with a flutter in my stomach that he looked exactly the same as he had before he had left for the Holy Land. Just as handsome. Inexplicably, I began to feel nervous, although I wrote that off as fear of what might happen if it were found out that my father and I were conspiring against the sheriff. Beside him, stood Much, his manservant who had accompanied him to Jerusalem. He too seemed unchanged by the Holy War, although he certainly did not look as well groomed. Upon sight of my weapon he instantly raised his hands, but Robin continued to confidently stand as though if I released the arrow it would bounce off him, doing no harm.

"Marian!" Robin said, looking surprised to see me. "It is me, Robin."

"Congratulations," I replied with sarcasm, as I stepped forwards, desperate to make them get back on their horses and ride away. "Leave." I knew my voice sounded horribly unpleasant, but I was not feeling particularly fond of Robin of Locksley. Not after he left me to earn glory in war.

Ignoring the tone of my voice and smiling, he asked, "How are you? I thought of you."

"Leave," I repeated, growing impatient and annoyed.

Much did not miss the threat in my voice and, speaking for his master, said in a conciliatory fashion, "We are leaving."

"Sir Edward, if you do not remember me, remember Nottingham. Remember your people!" Robin pleaded as we backed into the house.

My father shut the door and I saw no more of Robin.

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><p>As usual I was restraining myself from saying anything in the meeting of Lords as I stood behind my father in his chair. I could not say anything because I was a woman and, due to my bold side, I knew I would say something that would land my father in trouble. The only reason I did nothing to stop the sheriff was because my father would be punished. He was too old and frail to defend himself. So, playing the same game he was – silently opposing Vaizey – like I had been instructed, I said nothing.<p>

"It has been a good month. We've collected nearly three hundred pounds," Lord Woodvale said, obviously proud with how he had managed to tax his villagers.

"Ssh. Would you want to be the King in Antioch?" The Sheriff asked, fiddling with a pouch of coins. "Clue – No. Trying to feed a starving army on 300 pounds? You promised…500 pounds."

"It's more than we have managed before," Woodvale replied, trying to placate the Sheriff.

"Oh, yippee. So the King is starving in the Holy Land and you have failed him, but… 'It's more than we have ever managed before,'" Vaizey said mockingly, seeming very bored.

"Robin of Locksley," the announcer called.

"Good morning, everyone," said Robin cheerfully.

I, and everyone else in the room, of course, glanced up at him as he skipped down the stairs followed quickly by Much. I shot him a warning look which he did not deign to indicate he had received. Robin took off his cloak and unceremoniously threw it on to the top of one of the guard's pikes.

"Sheriff," he said with a nod of his head. "Well carry on." He unbuckled his sword and threw it to Much, although the movement seemed to have too much flair to be anything other than Robin savouring another chance to show off.

"Locksley. Welcome back. I trust Sir Guy of Gisborne has managed you estates to your satisfaction?"

"I believe he may have managed them to your satisfaction," Robin replied, pointing a finger at the Sheriff as he sat down.

I was shocked and angered by Robin's forward response. Unlike my father and me, he did not bother to hide his dissent, and that made everything worse for the rest of England. The cheeky grin he wore was liable to anger the Sheriff worse than anything else all day.

"Some of your peasants are unruly, by the way. We have two in custody awaiting punishment," the Sheriff told him, changing the subject slightly.

"Three," Guy interjected, correcting Vaizey.

"Three. Discipline will be a problem. Be warned." And the Sheriff turned away from Robin, who looked to be bursting to say something but unable to get the words out. "Loughborough?"

"Sheriff, thank you. I report-" said Loughborough, rising to his feet.

"Discipline has never been a problem on my estates," Robin interrupted, forcing all eyes back onto him.

"Times have changed." The sentence was short and clearly aimed at diverting the conversation back towards the taxes that had been collected.

"Not for the better, it seems," Robin replied, ignoring the Sheriff's desire to stop discussing Locksley.

"You of all people should know that the King needs funds to fight our Holy War," the Sheriff, said, smiling tightly as though he were not displeased and annoyed.

"Is it our Holy Way? Or is it Pope Gregory's?"

My eyes widened in abject shock at Robin's impertinent question. Never before had I heard anyone questioned our relationship with Rome. He truly was acting a fool.

"We stand shoulder to shoulder with Rome," the Sheriff asserted through clenched teeth.

"And we fall shoulder to shoulder too. I have seen it." It was the first time I had heard Robin speak of the Holy War as anything other than the only way to achieve peace. Before he left, he could not stop talking about how heroic it would make him and what the King would think of him. He only saw it in a positive light. But after his return he clearly did not view the war the same way and it made me wonder why he did come back to England.

"Then what is your proposal to raise money for the King?"

"Stop all taxes. Today!" Robin stood and spread his arms, walking towards the Sheriff, who was still seated in his extravagant, wooden chair behind the table, completely oblivious to the surprised coughing and choking of the other lords. I too, was just as stunned as the others.

"Amusing," said the Sheriff, although he looked anything but amused.

"I do not joke." Robin had arrived at the table, and he stood, smiling down at Vaizey, as if he was daring him to do as he wanted. "Today is market day and yet there is no market."

"Any your point is?"

"If a man can make more than he needs for his family, he can take what remains to market. He can trade. And the shire can take its share. But until then we must help every man, every peasant, every pieman, every pinner, provide for his family. Get him trading again," Robin explained, looking at each Lord in turn. I did not miss the way his gaze lingered on me the longest, or the longing his eyes held.

I was interesting in what he was saying though. He was finally making sense, but it would do nothing to sway the Sheriff.

Robin sat back down but, rudely, his feet were on the chair.

As though a challenge had been issued, the Sheriff stood and walked around his table, saying, "A man…who can provide for his family is a comfortable man. A lazy man. Doesn't want to work." He paused for effect before continuing, "What we need are hungry men. Our noble friend seems to forget that hungry men are virtuous." The anger in his last sentence was unmistakable and I could not help feeling that Robin was getting in too deep.

"There is a celebration of my return tonight in the Great Hall," Robin said with a wide smile, but I had no idea what he was smirking at.

"Indeed," the Sheriff replied, seeming just as confused as I was.

"And I trust none of us _virtuous_ men will be feasting." Robin sat back properly, his victory grin still in place, looking incredibly pleased with himself as he meshed his hands together.

I turned to look at the Sheriff, waiting for his response, but both he and Sir Guy were silent with annoyance.

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><p>The next time I saw him we were both walking down the same corridor in the castle. He swaggered arrogantly towards me and tried to walk past, but I needed to talk to him so I pushed him backwards by the chest and into a window alcove.<p>

"My father seems to think he should see you," I told him, still in disbelief. Robin only raised eyebrows in response, as though he had been expecting me to say that. "Our house is watched. Come after midnight tonight."

"Very well," he replied, looking smug.

I could no't stand to look at him. He used to wear that exact, same look when he was courting me five years before and it now felt like a knife to the heart.

"You're looking…striking. And if you still live with your father, that must mean-" Robin murmured, flirting with me.

He was beginning to work the old charms on me, so I interrupted before he could finish his sentence. "-Take care not to be seen."

"Don't worry. I can look after myself." His complacent tone began to grate on my nerves.

"I don't care about you. I care about my father," I said hotly, smiling almost spitefully in amusement at the words I had chosen next. "Are you really as naïve as you seem? You think you can pick fights with these people and get away with it. You think you can slight them in public? You're a fool."

After giving him one last look of moral superiority, I turned to walk away, but he pulled me back in with his words. "Marian, wait." He was, irritatingly, I might add, still smiling. Knowing exactly what he would say, I looked away, up at the ceiling but eventually I had to look into his eyes. "Now is not the time, I know, but I must say, you are…more than ever, your eyes, even when you look at me in anger, I feel you."

I could not fight the smile which was spreading over my face, but I was able to use it to my own devices. To give me time to collect my thoughts, I looked down and forced myself to remember that he chose war and glory over me. I made myself remember the feeling of rejection.

"I believe you can still…even after all this time…you can see into my soul." I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to notice him coming closer and it was with a start that I realised his thumb was gently, lovingly stroking my cheek. All of a sudden, I was caught in his intoxicating, scent, able to smell the rose petals he had bathed in, feeling immobile, trapped as his one of arms braced him against the wall behind me. He was in my personal space and I had no idea how to get him out of it.

I leaned in as his face came closer but I knew that if I let him kiss me, I would never be able to stop him. My hand came up and stopped him before his lips touched mine, and I said quietly, "Five years and you're still peddling the same old drivel? Does it ever work?"

"You'd be surprised." He grinned, unaware that he'd just told me he had been unfaithful and at least kissed other women.

I forced my own smile to stay in place as I whispered, "Amazed." Feeling particularly vindictive for the last comment, I walked away with my smile fading as the hurt came crashing over me and, as I passed him, I relieved my feelings by shoulder bashing him.

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><p>I rounded the corner and came through the doorway to the Great Hall just as the Sheriff walked out of it.<p>

"Marian!" Guy said in delighted surprise. "Might I have the pleasure of your company?"

I looked up, startled that someone was talking to me. I had been blindly walking down the corridor, too preoccupied with my earlier conversation with Robin to really notice where I was going and who I walked past. I did not really want to endure the company of Sir Guy but saw no other alternative, as I didn't want to be around Robin either. I looked between them, as if weighing up the advantages and disadvantages of each man. Guy would not try to kiss me, but I could not stand his cruel nature. I could see no way out, so I agreed to Guy's suggestion, knowing full well that it would annoy Robin to no end. I smiled at Guy and took his offered arm as he led me down the stairs.

I could not resist one look back at Robin as he leant against the banister, a look of determined anger set firmly in place, dominating his usually beautiful eyes and robbing him of his constant smile. I knew something bad was coming and I did not want to know what Robin would do about it. I feared the expression he wore and what it meant.

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><p>We did not hear their approach this time. As suggested, Robin and Much did not arrive on horses, so we only knew they had arrived when one of them knocked lightly on the front door.<p>

I didn't want my father to get up, so I went to answer the door. Robin leaned against the door frame, staring at me.

"Well? Don't just stand there. If the Sheriff's men see…"

"What? You might give them the pleasure of your company?" Robin said contemptuously.

"Grow up!" I told him angrily.

I spun and walked into the house, leaving them to follow. I went to stand behind my father as Much closed the door, glancing left and right in case the sentries had noticed, and Robin took the empty chair opposite us. Much took his place behind Robin and my father began to speak.

"Forgive me. I could not welcome you before."

"How did this monster become sheriff?" Robin asked, immediately cutting to the chase and ignoring all formalities and pleasantries.

"I did not watch my back," my father replied gravely. "Prince John gives out the shires in his brother's absence. My bid was not accepted." It was simple when it was put that way, but there was so much more to it. I remembered the months my father had spent trying to garner the support of other lords to try to convince Prince John and the money he had spent in bribes. I remembered the weeks we had lived in fear after Vaizey was named Sheriff and the day the sentries arrived.

"What can be done?"

"I can do nothing. I am watched and I _must_ think of my daughter. When I do speak out, no-one listens." My father looked almost scared as he patted the hand I had laid on his shoulder.

Robin said nothing, merely looking deep in thought.

"Robin, it is down to you, my friend."

"What can we do?" Much asked, astonished that we had a task for them.

"Play Nottingham's game. Speak to the lords. Slowly you can turn them. Do not make the mistake I and others have made and make you dissent public. Consolidate your position quietly."

"I do not have time," Robin replied impatiently. "Tomorrow I am to order the hanging of four of my own peasants." He was aghast at what he had been asked to do, and I was slightly surprised. Robin had never given any inclination that he cared about anyone other than himself.

"It will be the long game, I am afraid," my father said slowly.

"Will and Luke Scarlett cannot wait. Benedict Giddens. Allan A Dale." It was impossible to miss the passion in Robin's voice. He truly wanted to help his villagers.

I looked over at him urgently. The passion and emotion he was using meant that he would be unlikely to follow my father's instructions. "You must let them die. It is a test. Fail it and there will be consequences," I said, trying to convince him with my eyes.

"Perhaps!" Robin said angrily.

"Definitely!" I retorted, equally as heated. "This is not a game-"

My father held up his hand to stop me and said, "My daughter speaks when she should not. But she is right." My eyes rolled skyward. I was fed up and disappointed with my position in life. "You have no choice, Robin. Hide your temper. Bide your time until you can act decisively. Or kiss your lands, if not your life, goodbye."

Robin just sat there, his eyes speaking volumes greater than any words could. The infinite look of sadness would not leave them.

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><p>My father and I were stood at one of the windows looking out onto the courtyard. I saw Robin making his way through the crowd to get to the steps. I Heard the calls of 'murderer' and saw the expression of sorrow and defeat on his face as he wiped saliva from his cheek.<p>

The Sheriff came out with his entourage of priests and guards, looking happy and positively skipping down the steps to stand beside Robin. It disgusted me.

"Lords, Ladies, people of Nottingham…we are gathered here today to witness the carrying out of justice in the name of God and King Richard." And then using the scroll of charges to amplify his voice, the Sheriff called, "Bring out the prisoners!" The four young men were led down another set of stone steps by guards and taken to the four nooses that had been set up. "Robin of Locksley, Earl of Huntingdon, having recently returned from the Holy War with a personal commendation from the King himself, will read the proclamation."

Robin took the proclamation as the Scarlett brothers, Benedict Giddens and Allan A Dale were shoved up the steps and onto four stools.

"Enjoy," the Sheriff told Robin. He said something else, but from where I was stood I could not hear it, but I did see the smirk on Guy's face and Robin's grim look upwards.

Robin read the scroll aloud. "Let it be heard and known about the lands an realms of Richard, His Majesty, King of England, that on this, the 26th day of April, in the year of our Lord eleven hundred and ninety two, the following men, having been tried under law and found guilty – Benedict Giddens of Locksley, Will Scarlett of Locksley, Luke Scarlett of Locksley, Allan A Dale of Locksley. These same men have been sentenced to hang by a rope until they are dead."

The drum beat started and the crowd groaned as the white hoods were pulled over the prisoners' heads and the nooses slung over the top and tightened at the back.

I looked on in horror, beginning to understand why Robin had so vehemently rejected our plan when I saw how young Luke Scarlett looked.

"May the souls-"

"-Wait!" Someone in the audience shouted, interrupting the Sheriff.

"Ugh. Nah nah nah…'Please don't kill my brother, my little baby, my inbred cousin!'" The Sheriff angrily yelled.

"On behalf of Anthony, our bishop, I claim benefit of clergy for these men," a priest amongst the audience said. "They cannot hang."

"These are not holy men," Vaizey protested. "These people cannot plead the cloth. Get on with it."

"I came last night to administer their last rites."

"So?"

"And each one came to God through me, repenting their sins and asking to take the cloth. I felt duty bound to consult the Bishop and he in turn confers status of novice onto each man," the Priest answered, nervously shooting glances at Robin and the Sheriff.

"Shut up," the Sheriff said with a strained smile.

"I, Anthony, very Reverend Vicar Apostolic, hereby confer-"

"Shut up!" The Sheriff bellowed before turning to one of the priests surrounding him. "Is this possible?"

"They could not have become novices overnight," the second priest told him.

"They are become postulants! Novice novices, if you like. And so are under the protection of the church."

The Sheriff turned to look at Robin who looked perplexed by the turn of events, although I suspected he had something to do with it.

"Novice novices? How novel. Well, hang _them_ and arrest him," ordered the Sheriff.

The priest ran but was easily caught by the Sheriff's men, who ripped off his hood and beard, revealing him as a villager of Locksley.

"Where's the drum?" The Sheriff called, and once it started he chanted along with it, "Pom, pom…pom." Once again he muttered something in Robin's ear that was inaudible from where I was stood. The drum sped up and the audience gasped in anticipation of the horror that was to come.

"May the souls of these men find forgiveness in Heaven." The Sheriff then nodded his head and the stools were pulled out from under the feet of the four men, leaving them hanging in mid-air by their necks.

The crowd cried loudly and I was amongst them, my own shock, horror and disgust as great as I am sure Robin's was.

I heard Will and Luke's father shout to them, telling them that he loved them and I was having to force my feet not to take me running towards them.

The order given, the Sheriff and Guy walked away from the steps and came down the corridor my father and I were stood in, stopping one window ahead when Robin suddenly dropped the proclamation and punched a guard, alerted by the sudden simultaneous intake of breath from every member in the audience.

Robin stole the longbow from the man he had floored with one punch and quickly disposed of his friend and grabbed a handful of arrows. He notched an arrow and took aim.

"People of Nottingham!" He called, letting an arrow go flying through the air. It hit the rope of Allan A Dale and freed him. Robin drew another, and as he was aiming, said, "These men have committed no crime worth more than a spell in the stocks." When the arrow was released it soared towards Will Scarlett and cut the rope holding him up. Robin fitted the last two arrows he had to his bow and held it sideways as though it were a crossbow. "Will you tolerate this injustice? I for one will not." He fired the two arrows freeing Benedict Giddens and Luke Scarlett at the same time.

Everyone except the Sheriff's soldiers and the friends of the four prisoners were frozen in place with shock. I saw the four prisoners escape and relief flooded through me. A guard began to attack Robin, who threw the bow at the offending man and followed up with a knee to the stomach. Once he had wrestled the sword from the man, he began to fend men off left and right, knocking each man to the ground until a scared shout filled the air.

"Master, help!"

"Yield, Locksley, or say farewell to your little Mulch," the Sheriff said sinisterly.

"His name is Much." Robin looked resolutely at the Sheriff.

"Well, he'll be Mulch in a moment."

With nothing else to do, Robin drew back the sword over his shoulder and launched it into the air, sending it spinning towards the two men holding Much over the battlements. The piece of metal collides with the two soldiers' helmets and knocks them over, freeing Much. But Robin was left unarmed as an archer took aim at his back.

"Master! Look out!" Much yelled fearfully.

Robin turned slowly on the spot and held his arms aloft in surrender.

The order to kill was given by the Sheriff and the archer began to draw the arrow back further.

I looked desperately around and found the only solution with an exasperated sigh. As casually as I could manage, I reached up to my hair and took out one of the pins holding the curls in place. With all my might I threw it towards the archer and hit him in the arm seconds before he shot the arrow at Robin. Thankfully it missed, but Robin saw the pin and turned to look at me in surprise.

I raised my eyebrows, trying to tell him about five things silently at once, but mainly that I thought he was a fool and I had just saved his sorry behind. Not wanting anyone to work out what had happened, I walked away quickly and quietly, leaving Robin to make his escape.

I did not think I would ever be able to tolerate Robin of Locksley.

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><p><strong>AN: Please review because I really want to know what you thought. Also I am willing to continue this for at least all the episodes in Series one, so if you want me to, be sure to tell me.  
><strong>


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